


Ride the Spiral

by thundercaya



Series: The Elevator Incident [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 00:13:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7144229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thundercaya/pseuds/thundercaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Madison could probably give Burr a run for his money in the field of topic avoidance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ride the Spiral

James Madison's intercom buzzed.

"Mr. Madison?" came his intern's voice. "Secretary Jefferson here to see you."

Normally Jefferson had a free pass to enter Madison's office whenever he wanted, but when Madison was feeling anxious or uneasy, he liked to have a bit of warning before someone came to see him, even if it were someone he wanted to see. The bad thing about this was that now Jefferson already knew that something was wrong. The good news was that he couldn't know--yet--that what was wrong with Madison had to do with him.

Madison hit the button on his intercom. "Send him in, please." He had time to take one calming breath before the door opened and Jefferson walked in.

"Hello, Thomas," Madison greeted, grabbing the arms of his chair to stand.

"Don't get up," Jefferson said. "You look like you'll fall over if you do."

"Do I look that bad?" Madison asked. "I don't _feel_ that bad."

"But you do feel bad?" Jefferson asked, pulling up a chair and unbuttoning his jacket before sitting across the desk from Madison. "You've seemed a bit... off lately."

Madison shrugged. "I feel bad most of the time, don't I? I've got a bit of a fever, that's all."

"Yeah?" Jefferson asked. "Is it a real one or a fake one?"

"Don't be an asshole, Thomas." Whatever the origin of any given symptom, they were all real enough to Madison.

"You ask too much of me," Jefferson said, but he rephrased the question just the same. "Do you think you caught something, or did a thought catch you?" 

Three thoughts had caught him, actually, and the only one he was willing to talk about was the most minor one, the one that would be the most ridiculous source for a physical manifestation. Madison grabbed a glass of water off of his desk and drank from it to buy a little time. "Well, I'd like to think it was a thought," he said finally," because I don't want to go home sick, but I don't really know what thought it could be."

"Maybe I can help you figure that out," Jefferson said. "I feel like this started after you got stuck in the elevator with Hamilton. Did he say something to you?"

"When does Hamilton ever not say something to anyone?" Madison said by way of deflection.

"Anything to upset you, I mean. You can tell me. Swear to God I'll kill him if he did, but you can tell me."

"You'd love a reason," Madison said. And hell, Hamilton would probably love to give him a reason, too. "But no, he didn't say anything to upset me."

Jefferson picked up a pen off of Madison's desk. Not his favorite one, but a bulky, plain one. "Is this the knife pen you were waving around at him?" he asked, trying to twist or pull it open.

"No, it's a regular pen," Madison said. "I don't have a knife pen."

"Hamilton seems to think you do."

Could Hamilton be fixated on Madison's death wish? If so, that made Madison feel a little less ridiculous about fixating on Hamilton's.

"Funny," Madison said, reaching for the pen, which Jefferson handed to him. " _He_ was the one who brought them up. Why were you even talking to him?"

"Reconnaissance," Jefferson said simply. "For talking to you."

"I must have really worried you if you were willing to do that, and I apologize," Madison said. "If you talk to him again, you can tell him that even if I did have a pen with a knife in it, I wouldn't bring it to work.  Could I even get it past security?"

"Probably," Jefferson said. "They've never asked for a closer look at one of my pens. And I'm pretty sure Burr brought in his knife umbrella more than once."

"So you're telling me that everyone could be running around the Capitol with knives?" Madison threw his hands up.  "Why do we even have security?"

"Our tax dollars at work. So what's wrong, James?"

"You didn't find out from your reconnaissance with Hamilton?" This was a good sign. Jefferson couldn't dance around topics very long, so if Hamilton had told him what Madison said about the nature of their relationship, it should have come out by now.

"I found out that you threatened to kill him," Jefferson said, "but that's nothing to be upset over."

"I _posited_ that it might be beneficial for me to kill him," Madison corrected. "No threats were made. Obviously he's not a reliable source of information. You should have come to me first." He said that, but he was glad for the delay. Moment by moment he was closer to having a good answer.

"Well, I'm here now," Jefferson said.

Moment by moment, but not quite yet. Madison lifted his glass to his mouth again.

"Your glass is empty," Jefferson observed.

Madison's face heated up even more than his fever could explain at having been caught stalling. He set the glass back down. "So it is."

"What were you drinking?"

"Water."

"Of course.  Let me get you another one." Jefferson reached for Madison's intercom then paused. "What's your intern's name?"

"Miss Creek."

"Her first name," Jefferson said. "She's cute."

"Do not flirt with my intern, Thomas," Madison sighed. "Do not flirt with _any_ interns."

"I won't, I won't," Jefferson said, holding his hands up placatingly. "But what's her name?"

"Madison."

Jefferson chuckled. "Wait, really? Is that confusing?"

"No, because I'm Mr. Madison and she's Miss Creek."

"At least her last name isn't James."

"I think I would have rejected her instantly."

Jefferson gave another laugh, but when he hit the intercom a moment later, he was completely professional. "Miss Creek, this is Secretary Jefferson. Could you please bring another glass of ice water for your Congressman?"

"Of course, Mr. Secretary," she said. "Anything for you? We have Easy Mac."

Jefferson pointed towards the door with his thumb and made a face as if to say as if to say "you hear this chick?"

"No thank you, Miss Creek."

While waiting for the water, Madison played with the pen he'd taken from Jefferson, smiling lightly at the chagrined expression on the other man's face when he opened it rather easily, revealing only an ink cartridge. He closed it back up as his intern entered the office.

"Here you are, Mr. Madison," she said, picking up Madison's empty glass and replacing it with a full one.

"Thank you, Miss Creek," Jefferson said before Madison could. "That will be all."

She smiled at Jefferson before leaving and shutting the door.

"Your water, James?" Jefferson prompted.

Madison lifted the glass and drank deeply.

Jefferson smiled when he set it back down. "Now that you've had plenty of time to gather yourself, are you ready to tell me what's wrong?"

Madison _was_ ready, having used the minutes that his friend had so graciously gifted him to push down what was left of the other two problems until the safe one really _was_ the one that was bothering him the most.

"I'm embarrassed," he said. "About the other day. I almost knocked you over, and I must have looked ridiculous."

"You did, a little," Jefferson admitted. "But hey, when nature calls.... Is that really what's got you all worked up?"

"You know how it is," Madison said. "I'm embarrassed, and it bothers me that I'm embarrassed. Then I start feeling embarrassed by how much it bothers me. That bothers me, too, and that in itself is even more embarrassing."

"Got it," Jefferson said. "It becomes a spiral."

"Yes." 

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You got me water," Madison smiled. "That's helpful. But really, I just need to ride it out. Like usual."

"Well, if you need anything," Jefferson said, standing, "anything at all, don't hesitate to call."

"Noted," Madison said, moving to stand as well.

Again Jefferson motioned for him to remain seated. "Feel better soon, James." He buttoned his jacket before leaving the office. Soon? Madison had talked to Jefferson and everything had been fine. He felt better already.


End file.
